


Overjoyed

by clockworkrobots



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkrobots/pseuds/clockworkrobots





	Overjoyed

  
Castiel wakes up on the morning of December 25th to find a pair of eyes staring at him that he is quite sure he did not go to bed with. They were brown and not green, wide awake rather than the drowsy blinking back of sleep Dean often indulged in on particularly slow and sweet mornings, and were staring down at Cas without a hint of recognition, head cocked curiously to the side in an almost amusing mimicry of Castiel’s own habit.

There was also the fact that this pair of eyes belonged to cat.

Or, perhaps a kitten to be more precise, as its body was small and its features all innocent, and Castiel finds himself in that moment falling irrevocably in love.

“Hello,” he says, voice even rougher with hours of sleepy disuse. The kitten only blinks back. “Does Dean know you’re here?” he then asks, as soon as it occurs to him, and he promptly looks around their bedroom to see if Dean was, indeed, anywhere near. The kitten, again, has very little to say on this matter, and just continues looking cute.

It’s then that he notices a ribbon tied around his new companion’s collar, upon which sight Cas breaks into a smile. “Oh,” he says with a hint of wonder. “You’ve come to stay.”

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” says a familiar voice from behind him, and Cas turns around from his perch on the bed to greet the sight of Dean in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Already dressed at 10:00 A.M.--Cas supposes he’s been busy. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says by way of his usual greeting, and the kitten below his petting hands meows its own. “I’m surprised to see you up so early," he adds, reminiscing momentarily with a small but suggestive smile over how very late they stayed up last night.

Dean pushes off from the wall to walk across the room and grab Cas’ hand. “Yeah,” he says, pulling his friend to his feet, “it’s cause I have another present to give you. C'mon.”

Gathering the contented kitten in his arms, Cas then follows Dean downstairs.

Brought into their small living room, Dean shuffles aside somewhat nervously to unveil his second surprise. "It's a desk," Cas states, and indeed it is. However, stepping closer, Cas realises it is not just _any_ desk, but one that Dean had obviously made himself. He runs a gentle hand over the wood finish, fingers traicng the carved detail on the corners of its cubords. " _Dean,_ " he breathes out reverently.

"I know how you were saying you wished for a place to write and stuff, and I know our place is small, but it seemed stupid that the only place you could was the kitchen table, so yeah," Dean explains, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. "Now you have somewhere to keep all your thousand years of thoughts. Or, millions? I don't know how old--" Dean starts to ramble, but is suddenly silenced by Cas' lips upon his. 

" _You_ are my greatest gift, Dean Winchester," Cas whispers into his lips, making Dean blush hard but pull his arms around his friend tighter. He steals another grateful kiss.

"I guess since it's Christmas you get a pass on saying sappy shit," Dean says, after they break apart again, with just the barest hint of a tremble in his tone, eyes crinkled at their edges.

"Good," Cas says then, stepping back and letting the kitten down from where it had been curled in his arms to explore the wooden desk on its own. "In which case that gives me leave to now give you your present," he throws over his shoulder, as he steps out of the room.

When he returns, he holds in his hands a large, black bounded book. Before handing it over, Cas feels the need to explain. "I had no possessions before I met you, except perhaps my sword and my faith,"--he splays his hand out over the bare cover--"but you have given me more than you know, and perhaps most of all a home to keep, and be kept."

Looking up to meet Dean's eyes, he places the tome in Dean's arms. "It's perhaps not as exciting as a cat," Cas smiles, "but I think you will like it, as I hope it returns a little bit of that sense of home to you."

Dean opens the cover gently, curiosity creasing his brow, but freezes on the first page, and sucks in a shuddering breath. Cas cannot see the page in question, but having made the album himself, he knows it to be a picture of Dean's mother.

"Cas, I--" Dean gets out before his voice breaks. He turns to page to find more pictures, ones he'd thought lost, of people too long lost to him. "How did you find these?" he asks after a moment, finally finding his voice.

Cas moves closer to where Dean has leaned himself upon the desk, idly petting the kitten's head as he walks by. "It was difficult. If my powers were what they were I would have perhaps just gone back in time to retrieve the pictures _you_ knew," he says, as he settles next to Dean, "but instead I searched. It's lucky I have 'mojo' enough to fly, because it required an effort most thorough, but I managed--old family member's houses, forgotten negatives somehow saved in storage--they were there once I looked for them."

Dean strokes a shaky thumb across the first picture of his mother before closing the book and setting it down softly on the surface of the desk that he sanded himself. "Thank you, Cas, _really._  I don't--," he begins, but Cas places a finger upon his mouth.

"You need not thank me," he says as Dean closes his eyes tightly, blinking back some wet emotion that Cas feels himself, deep down in his chest, "for this is _my_ thanks."

Dean kisses him fast and hard, and breathless, laughing as he continues to kiss his thanks into Cas' lips. " _Thank you_ , you amazing son of a bitch."

For his part, Castiel matches his joy with a grin of his own, pressing it into Dean's jaw as his mouth makes its way across his cheek. "And that is not all," he whispers sultrily when he reaches Dean's ear, and the soft hair that tickles there, "for I also have a second gift."

Interest piqued in more ways then one, Dean breathes back: "Oh yeah?"

"Indeed, and like the kitten in the bed this morning, it's also back upstairs," he growls with a nice grope at Dean's ass, and fuck, Cas is _twice_ as hot and adorable when he gets into bedroom talk.

"Is it your dick in a box?" Dean jokes, elation only growing at the knowdledge that that reference will probably fly right over Cas' head.

Cas takes it in stride, replying with: "No," as if the idea were preposterous, "gift wrapping would only impede the speed with which I would like you to touch it."

Dean almost trips on his way up the stairs behind Cas, doubling over in laughter.

Despite the mild affront upon his ego, Cas proceeded to find the day a _very_ merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
